Page:The Lusiad (Camões, tr. Mickle, 1791), Volume 2.djvu/103

But thou shalt conquer: all thine eyes survey,
With all our various tribes, shall own thy sway.

He spoke; and melting in a silvery stream
Both disappear'd; when waking from his dream,
The wondering monarch, thrill'd with awe divine,
Weighs in his lofty thoughts the sacred sign.

Now, morning bursting from the eastern sky,
Spreads o'er the clouds the blushing rose's dye;
The nations wake, and at the sovereign's call,
The Lusian nobles crowd the palace hall.
The vision of his sleep the monarch tells;
Each heaving breast with joyful wonder swells:
Fulfil, they cry: the sacred sign obey,
And spread the canvas for the Indian sea.
Instant my looks with troubled ardour burn'd,
When keen on me his eyes the monarch turn'd:
What he beheld I know not; but I know,
Big swell'd my bosom with a prophet's glow:
And long my mind, with wondrous bodings fired,
Had to the glorious, dreadful toil aspired:
Yet to the king, whate'er my looks betrayed,
My looks the omen of success displayed.
When with that sweetness in his mien exprest,
Which unresisted wins the generous breast,
Great are the dangers, great the toils, he cried,
Ere glorious honours crown the victor's pride.

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